


Changes

by lifeaftermeteor



Series: Life After Meteor [12]
Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: BROTPs abound, Gen, Post-Canon, Post-Endless Waltz, Post-Series, Preventers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-22 01:46:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 14,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9576476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lifeaftermeteor/pseuds/lifeaftermeteor
Summary: AC 205 brings with it waves of change.  Relena transfers to Brussels to begin work directly for the ESUN, Sally gets promoted, Noin declares her return from Mars, and Une announces her retirement.  Meanwhile, new opportunities arise for Duo as he finishes his degree and his relationship with Heero evolves significantly.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is part 12 of the [Life After Meteor](http://archiveofourown.org/series/391015) series, which trails the Gundam Pilots (and others) through the years post-war. Welcome comments/feedback.
> 
> Also kindest thanks to [tumbledrylemur](http://archiveofourown.org/users/tumbledrylemur/) for the beta reading. Couldn’t have done it without you! <3

**New York, New York  
** **205 January 1**

“Where is everybody?” Duo asked as empty car after car on the subway train rolled by.  The tourists and city denizens alike had apparently chosen to stay inside and recover from the night’s festivities rather than explore the bright January morning. 

“It’s New Year’s Day,” Wufei reminded him as the doors slid open and they boarded. “You really have to ask?” 

“Why aren’t _we_ still asleep then?” Duo asked as he and Heero slid into some seats off to the side of the car door. 

“Could you honestly have slept any longer than you did?” Wufei asked, taking hold of one of the loops that hung from the subway car’s ceiling just as the train lurched forward. 

Duo thought for a moment.  He had woken to a brilliant winter day, the light making his headache ever so slightly worse as his body fought off the last vestiges of the previous evening’s libations in his friend’s apartment.  Wufei had already been conscious for some undetermined amount of time—coffee brewed, clothes changed, hair pulled back into a neat ponytail.  Heero, for his part, had continued to sleep for several more hours, only roused when Duo pounced on him and informed him that they were heading out into the concrete jungle. 

Eventually, Duo admitted with a shrug, “No, probably not.” 

“Didn’t think so. Quit your bitching. It’s a perfectly acceptable hour to be awake.” 

The retort earned muted laughter from Heero, who was scrolling through his phone where he sat beside Duo.  “Empty cars mean no news, which is a good thing for everyone.  I think there’s a grand total of five people at the Branch, Wufei and I included.” 

“The week between Christmas and the new year keeps NYPD plenty busy, but we’ve escaped any international crises thus far.  We’ll take the half-days while we can, even if it means one of us is technically ‘on call’ all day every day,” Wufei grumbled. 

“So who’s on duty now, if you’re both here?” Duo asked, his eyes flicking between the two of them. 

Heero pointed at his partner at the same time as Wufei muttered, “I am.” 

“Even has that secure-line mobile,” Heero added. 

“Are you even supposed to be carrying that around the city?” 

“No,” Wufei admitted, but showed no sign of remorse. “So let’s just hope nobody decides to mug us today.” 

“They’ll likely be hung over,” Heero reminded him. “Easy take down.  Plus, after the monotony of the past week, it would be a welcome respite.” 

Duo laughed and shook his head.  “With both of you gunning for a fight, I pity the poor bastard who gets in the way.” 

They rode the train north and exited out into Central Park.  Duo found the web of access roads and pathways disorienting, a feeling amplified by the white snow that had enveloped the world.  It made him think about one winter, years ago in Geneva, [1] and he chanced a glance at Heero at the memory. 

 _At least this time I’m dressed accordingly,_ Duo thought, ducking his head into the scarf wrapped around his neck and clenching his gloved hands into fists.  They meandered through the park, aiming in the general direction of The Met armed with thermoses of hot coffee and good company. 

A faint buzz came from Wufei’s hip and Duo watched the man’s face fall.  Digging into his pocket, he withdrew a dinosaur of a mobile phone that looked every bit as indestructible as it was ancient.  Heero started chuckling darkly as Wufei groaned. 

“What?” Duo prompted. 

“Work call,” Heero supplied. 

Wufei rolled his eyes and stood.  “Excuse me,” he told them, retreating.  “You can keep going—I’ll catch up.” 

Heero shook his head.  “We can wait.” 

Wufei nodded and answered the call, fleeing several yards further back up the pathway as Duo and Heero stepped off to the side. 

In the silence that followed, Duo worried his lower lip between his teeth.  Since Hilde had visited him in Jakarta, he had anxiously awaited more of the same from the others.  But they hadn’t come or offered to do so.  In his most paranoid moments, he wondered if maybe they had made some internal pact to avoid bothering him while his studies were underway.  Some misplaced desire to protect him and his time.  Maybe that’s why he felt nervous about bringing it up: it was hard to argue when the lot of them got to mother-henning.  But this was Heero after all, and he wasn’t sure when he would have another chance to broach the subject before his departure tomorrow.  And so he pressed ahead. 

“You should come out and visit, ya know,” he said, turning to face Heero full-on.  “Hilde came out last year, but you’ve never met any of my friends or seen the campus.  I could take you to all the cool places that you never got to while traipsing around the region on Preventers business…”  Duo pressed his lips into a thin line, realizing he’d startled to babble.  There was something like uncertainty in Heero’s eyes that set him on edge about the request.  Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything. 

“I don’t want to be a distraction,” Heero answered, his gaze turning inward.  “Your last term is important.  You’re not done yet.” 

 _I hate being right._ Duo rolled his eyes.  “I know that—better than most.  Trust me.  I meant during the break in March.” 

The silence returned and stretched between them as Heero mulled this new information.  “March?” he asked at last. 

Duo smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] For reference, Duo’s remembering [this winter](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5766829/chapters/13290844).


	2. Chapter 2

**Preventers Headquarters**  
**Geneva, Switzerland  
** **205 February 7**

“Congratulations on your promotion.” 

Sally smirked at Renilde Une from where she sat in the Preventers Director’s receiving nook tucked off to the side of the woman’s expansive office. “Thank you for supporting me,” she said at last.  “I realize it’s always a fight with the Oversight Committee getting these kinds of things approved.” 

“Even after nearly a decade, they still don’t trust me.  Not really,” Une confided, her eyes dropping to the coffee table between them.  “I don’t blame them really.  I’d be wary of me too.  Especially after the Ozols operation." [1] 

“Yeah, that raised a few eyebrows internally too,” Sally confessed.  “No good deed goes unpunished, I suppose.” 

“I have to admit that your promotion was not entirely altruistic.” 

Sally arched an eyebrow at that.  “Oh?” 

Une slowly raised her eyes to meet hers.  They seemed pained.  “I’m leaving, Sally.  I’m retiring at the start of the new year.” 

“Shit,” Sally cursed, bolting upright and leaning forward, her elbows balanced on her knees.  Une’s life _was_ the Preventers.  The confession felt like a sucker punch to the gut.  “Why?  Do they know?” 

“I’ve told the Committee as I’m required to do—but no one else.  I don’t want to cause undue anxiety.  The organization will continue on without me.” 

There was a heavy pause that followed this, leading Sally to prompt, “But?” 

Now it was Une’s turn to smirk, even if it was half-hearted.  “But.  I’ve gotten a look at the potential successors and I’m…concerned.” 

Sally winced.  “That bad, eh?” 

“It’s not to say they’re not adequate, or even exemplary, in their own rights but this job is _impossible_.  And you need to trust the team below you in order to get anything done, much less put out the fires before they start.  I’m not convinced this candidate pool has that skill. 

“So before I leave, I want to know that the cadre at the top knows the mission, the organization, and will take care of its people.  That’s why I promoted you: there’s no one else in this organization who I trust more.” 

Sally nodded, acknowledging the burden, accepting it.  And then a thought struck her.  “You didn’t answer ‘why’ you were leaving.”  Une flushed at this.  Sally pressed ahead.  “You’re a beast, Ren.  No one has had the ferocity or the balls to stand up to the ESUN’s meddling like you have.  I can’t imagine you ever ceding ground to the suits in Brussels.” 

Une was silent a moment before taking a deep breath.  “It’s not that.  It’s…Mariemaia.  She’ll graduate next spring.  She’s having a rough time this year, dealing with the uncertainty of what happens after secondary ends.  She feels unmoored, I think.” 

“Like a proper teenager,” Sally mused. 

“Precisely.  I have done everything within my power to give her some semblance of a normal life, but she needs stability now more than space.  And if that means turning over the keys to this office and moving to London, so be it.” 

Sally smiled at this.  “The infamous Colonel Une has maternal instincts.  Wait till I tell the Oversight Committee.”

“Don’t you dare,” Une threatened even as she laughed, the sound bright, and Sally was struck by how pretty she was when she felt truly free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Une’s referencing this [massive coordinated sting](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8257139/chapters/18919625).


	3. Chapter 3

**Jakarta, Indonesia  
** **205 March 17**

There was a faint buzzing coming from off to the right.  Heero blinked an eye open as Duo shifted beside him where they sat in the school’s central garden.  Withdrawing the mobile device from his pocket, Duo silenced it and closed his notebook.  “Is that your alarm?” Heero asked.

“Yeah,” Duo replied, stowing the notebook away in the well-worn satchel that sat nearby.  “My ‘do not miss class’ alarm.”

Heero sat up as Duo stood and dusted off his jeans.  Shielding his eyes with a hand, he looked up and asked, “Does this mean my nap is over?”

The other man chuckled.  “You’re welcome to stay—I can meet you back here after class…”

Heero shook his head and glanced at his watch.  “I know how to get back to your place. I might go find dinner and then meet you back there. I assume your roommate has already started celebrating the end of midterms.”

Duo laughed bitterly at the last and shook his head.  “Jax hasn’t been entirely sober since Tuesday when he finished his last exam before break.  Some of us aren’t so lucky.”

Heero squinted up into the fading sunlight from his seat in the grass, hoping to catch a glance at the other man’s eyes but Duo had already turned away.  In the end, he shrugged and said, “Food is definitely a priority then.  I can get something for you too and have it waiting for you when you get out of class if you’d like.”

At the offer, Duo’s eyes lit up and he smiled.  “That would be awesome.  You don’t mind?”

Heero waved off his concern and pushed himself up off the ground to stand beside him.  “I’ll see you back at the apartment,” he said in closing and the two parted ways: Duo to his exam, Heero off-campus and out into the wilds of the city.

As he walked the Jakarta streets, Heero slipped into his own thoughts.  He’d taken Duo up on his invitation to come out to Indonesia during the midterm break.  He had actually arrived a couple days prior to the break officially beginning, as Duo’s exams had been originally scheduled to wrap up on Wednesday afternoon.  Unfortunately, only a few days prior to Heero’s scheduled arrival, Duo informed him that his professor had bumped the final test to the end of the week.  Duo had explained that the delay had been an act of mercy for much of the class, which had had a rough time going thus far.  So close to his planned departure, Heero opted to shrug off the glitch and come as scheduled.  In the end, the two of them had spent much of Thursday night arguing over the appropriate translation of various Earth Mandarin idioms into Colonial Spanish.

That night, once studying was complete, Heero had acquired blankets and pillows from Jax and set to work building himself a nest on the black leather couch in which to spend his sleeping hours.

Duo had watched this activity in mounting confusion, finally asking him, “What are you doing?”

Heero had looked up to find himself pinned with by Duo’s sharp gaze from where the other man stood in the doorway to his bedroom.  “I’m sleeping out here,” he said simply.

“Why?” Duo had pressed, his head cocking to the side as he shifted to lean against the doorframe and crossed his arms over his chest.  “Heero, my bed’s plenty big enough for the two of us.  It’s not as if we haven’t shared before.”

“Well, yes,” Heero admitted, “but…we were living together then.”

Heero remembered that Jax had choked on the orange juice he had been drinking out of the carton from off in some corner of the kitchen.  Heero had been unable to suppress the sidelong glance he shot at Duo’s roommate, but his friend pointedly ignored him.

“Heero,” Duo tried again, “my bed is more comfortable than the couch.  You’re sleeping in my room.”

“But—”

“Come on man, don’t argue,” he ordered, straightening and propping his bedroom door open behind him as he turned and disappeared into the room’s dark interior.

Heero had hesitated for a moment longer before he had gathered his blankets and pillows together and followed Duo into the bedroom.  He had slept better than he had in months.  He wasn’t entirely sure what that meant, and he didn’t know if he had the energy to dedicate much thought to it.

A few blocks from Duo’s apartment tower, Heero swung down a side street in search of a food cart that Duo had mentioned offhand the day before.  Not one to turn down a recommendation for good _nasi goreng_ [1] he meandered down side streets.  Following Duo’s instructions as best as he could remember, he succeeded in backtracking only once before finding the _warung_ [2] with blue and yellow banners tucked off in a secluded corner against a towering office building.  Dinner secured for both himself and Duo, Heero made his way back to the Mosaic Towers.

Upon arrival, he let himself in with Duo’s spare key and discovered the house party already underway.  The two-bedroom apartment—which had felt so open and inviting when he first arrived—was crowded with people, presumably from Jax or Duo’s schools.  He hesitated in the doorway a moment, startled by the plethora of unfamiliar faces.

The hesitation offered Jax just enough time to spot him from a distant corner.  “Heero!” he called out over the hubbub of the assembled guests.  “Heero, come on in.  Let me get you a drink!”

Heero chuckled and shut the door behind him as Jax picked his way across the apartment to him; they met in the kitchen.  Depositing his take-out on a counter, Heero withdrew his own plastic bowl and started picking at his fried rice while Jax opened the refrigerator and stared down the contents.

“We’re stocked up on juices, but there’s beer here or liquor in the cabinet behind you,” Duo’s roommate informed him.

Heero considered his options.  Glancing back at the throng of people, he fought off the dull spike of anxiety in his belly and echoes of summer evenings he’d rather forget.  “Beer,” he answered, hoping no one put anything stronger in front of him. 

As Jax withdrew a bottle and popped the cap, he spied the take-out.  “I take it Duo will be late,” he said, passing over the beer.

“Last exam of the season,” Heero replied, taking a pull from the bottle before leaning back against the countertop and setting the beer safely off to the side so he could focus on dinner.  He glanced at his watch, surprised how much time he’d killed in his meanderings through the Jakarta streets.  “He should actually be wrapping up fairly soon.”

“Jax, where’s your roommate?” a woman asked as she bounded over to join the two of them in the kitchen.  Heero gave her a once-over.  Same age, short, Korean.

“Wrapping up a test,” Jax answered.  The woman winced and nodded.  Turning to Heero, he gestured back and forth between the two of them.  “Have you—?”

“No,” the woman answered and extended her hand.  “Seo-youn.”  Heero took her hand and offered his name in exchange, watching her eyes go wide with recognition.  “So _you’re_ Heero,” she mused.  “I’ve heard a lot about you.”  Something in Heero’s face must have betrayed his uncertainty because she laughed, a bright sound that overcame the din around them.  “Don’t worry!  Good things only.”  She gave him another once-over.  “You’re colonial too, yeah?”

“Yes,” Heero responded, guarded.

“Thought so,” she said with a nod.  “I’ve learned from Duo that colonists tend to be smaller.”

“I prefer the term ‘fun-sized’ myself,” Heero responded, his voice level.  Beside him, Jax nearly choked on his beer.  Heero smirked and turned back to his dinner basking in the light from Seo-yeon’s wide grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Nasi Goreng is a fried rice dish common in Indonesia and Malaysia, usually accompanied with a protein of some sort (like prawns or chicken)
> 
> [2] Warungs are small, family-owned businesses. They range widely: from a small, casual restaurant or café to a bicycle-mobile street cart.


	4. Chapter 4

**Unit #1298, Mosaic Towers**  
**Jakarta, Indonesia  
** **205 March 18**

Duo woke slowly, creeping up into consciousness in the dim light of his bedroom.  There was a familiar weight in the bed beside him, and—rubbing the sleep from his eyes—he turned to find Heero still fast asleep beside him.  The sight filled him with an odd sense of nostalgia, as if he had missed this closeness, this proximity for years and didn’t realize it. 

He had come home spent from his exam to find his apartment packed with people (only half of whom he recognized), music going, and Heero hovering in the kitchen waiting for him with beer and food as promised.  Leaning close, Duo had murmured, apologetic, “I had no idea how many people were coming to this.  Honestly.” 

Heero had chuckled, a faint flush on his cheeks from the alcohol that had apparently been flowing freely in Duo’s absence.  He had answered over the low roar of the crowd, “Don’t worry about it.  Eat.”  He then had pressed a plastic bowl of fried rice into Duo’s empty hands and leaned forward over the island bar, his arms crossing underneath him, to rejoin a heated conversation with a few of the house guests which Duo had inadvertently interrupted. 

There was a gentle tug at Duo’s clothes which drew him back into the warm present and he glanced down the length of his body.  Even unconscious, it appeared Heero had sought him out: his fingers were curled around the hem of Duo’s t-shirt.  He wasn’t sure whether to be amused or concerned by the discovery.  Heero’s nervous ticks were familiar ones, and he’d caught the other man biting his nails or worrying vulnerable hemlines plenty of times.  But he couldn’t recall seeing it manifest while Heero was comfortably rooted in REM sleep. 

Duo shook his head, opting to disregard the discovery and extracted himself slowly so as to not wake Heero.  The man mumbled and rolled away onto his back, his hands coming up to hide themselves under the pillow beneath his head. 

Quiet as a phantom, Duo grabbed some clothes from his open closet and slunk out of the bedroom to the adjoined bathroom for a shower.  He emerged sometime later freshly scrubbed and dressed for the day, moving into the main living area to assess the damage from the night before. 

There he found Jax brewing a pot of coffee and Seo-yeon perched on one of the stools at the kitchen island.  When they looked up, they each offered barely restrained, too-happy greetings.    

Duo could guess at the unvoiced suspicions.  He and Heero had been inseparable throughout the party and had fled into his bedroom as the party was (finally, blessedly) winding down in the early hours of the morning.  He sighed and rolled his eyes.  “Christ.  Chill.  Nothing happened.  It’s not like that.”  As he crossed to the kitchen and withdrew a large skillet from one of the cabinets, he glanced over his shoulder at the other two.  Both of his friends seemed to deflate at the news, Seo-yeon especially so.  “Heero’s just a friend.” 

Seo-yeon wasn’t so ready to be deterred, however.  With a smirk, she asked, “You often share a bed with friends?” 

“When they’ve been there as long as Heero has, yes,” Duo shot back, pulling eggs and vegetables out of the refrigerator.  “I’m just being practical.  The couch really isn’t that comfortable.” 

The last prompted a very unladylike snort from Seo-yeon.  “Yeah, I would have appreciated that info last night…” she groaned, rubbing her neck. 

Duo left his roommate to defend the sleeping arrangement and busied himself chopping vegetables, breaking and scrambling eggs, setting the skillet over the stovetop burners.  He lapsed into silence as he worked, the conversation between Jax and Seo-yeon ebbing and flowing behind him.  Duo paused every now and then in his ministrations to take a swallow from the coffee cup his roommate had set out on the countertop next to him. 

He looked up only when Seo-yeon offered a friendly greeting to a new addition to the room.  Glancing behind him, he watched Heero emerge from his bedroom suite, his hands ruffling still-damp strands of dark hair.  Heero flicked his eyes in Duo’s direction, simultaneously accepting Jax’s offer of coffee and moving to join Seo-yeon at the island. 

They made small talk for a time, reacquainting themselves with one another—this time without the mob of party guests milling about—while Duo doled out plates of omelet wedges.  Conversation eventually shifted to the night before, the four of them commiserating on some of the not-so-welcome guests. 

“Some guy at the party last night said something that really bothered me,” Jax said from where he offered at the island next to Seo-yeon.  He then added, pointing down the bar top at Heero, “And I could tell it bothered _you_.” 

“What?” Duo asked as he gathered empty plates and moved them to the sink to deal with later. 

“You weren’t here yet,” his roommate clarified, downing the rest of his coffee.  “Nah, some guy said something…can’t even remember exactly what, but he alluded to being nervous about living with someone from L2.”  Duo laughed darkly, but said nothing.  “We waved him off but later I realized that none of the colonies ever crossed my radar in that way before coming here,” he acknowledged, leaning his elbows on the kitchen table.  “I mean…sure it was, ‘The colonists this’ or ‘the colonists that,’ but it was never pointed at a _specific_ cluster growing up. 

“I’m sure you guys have similar stuff about us ground-bounders here,” Jax added, glancing at Heero for confirmation.  The man nodded, his lips twitching upward at the side in a conspiratorial smile.  “And then I come here, and I find there really _are_ people that are like that…and I don’t understand _why_.  What makes L2 such a ‘bad’ place compared to the other clusters?  I mean…it can’t be all that bad – it produced you after all.” 

Duo snorted as he poured himself a second cup of coffee.  “Flattery will get you nowhere, roomie.” 

From where she sat at the bar, Seo-yeon grinned and asked, “Got any stats on your home cluster that might put this all in perspective?” 

Duo sighed and leaned back against the counter, taking a few cautious sips of the steaming black liquid in his cup as he mulled over the question.  “They may be dated,” he began, glancing between Heero and his friends.  “I haven’t looked at hard stats out of L2 in a few years now.” 

Pushing away from the counter, Duo crossed to the kitchen island and set his mug down as he leaned forward, his weight braced by the arms he crossed underneath his chest.  “Um…of the established colonies—so excluding the ones just getting started—L2 has the highest percentage of cluster population’s living under the established colonial ‘poverty line.’  But that’s sometimes a false positive because a little bit of cash in L2 goes farther than it does on the metropolis colonies in L1 or L4.  Bartering is big in L2.  You can pay for goods and services with more goods and services, so.  Wages only give you a partial picture.” 

Duo paused and tilted his head to the side and looked down at Heero.  “What else?” 

“Crime,” Heero suggested. 

“Oh, that’s a big one.”  Duo pushed himself up and away from his side of the island to walk around to the other.  Hopping up onto the vacant barstool between Seo-yeon and Heero, he ran a hand through his short hair.  “Yes, the crime rate is the highest amongst the colonies.  Although last I checked, L3 was giving it a run for its money.  Black markets are big—they never really shut down after the conflict.  There’s also the problem that the economic opportunities—the really significant ones—aren’t on L2.  But in order to get off-colony, you need cash.  And as I already mentioned, money isn’t really as big a thing in the cluster, so people will turn to unscrupulous means to get capital if it’s important enough to them.”  

He tilted his head back to look up at the ceiling and worried his lower lip between his teeth.  “What else…oh!  Between having the lowest GDP per capita and the highest crime rate, L2 also has the greatest number of religious buildings so we at least have that going for us.” 

“Like…churches, synagogues, mosques…?” Jax asked.  When Duo nodded he laughed, incredulous.  “You’re kidding.  How many?” 

“Fuck if I know,” Duo admitted with a laugh, “but I recall it was pretty ridiculous.  It almost feels like every block has something.  Like coffee shops on L4.  You’re at one, and you can _see_ the next one from the entrance.  You could walk in and say, ‘Hi, I’d like some God today.’” Duo lifted his coffee cup.  “And can you put him in a to-go cup?” he continued, pointing down at the mug. “I’m late for work.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Earth Sphere United Nations**  
**Brussels, Belgium  
** **205 April 20**

When she had gotten the call, Relena had been taken completely aback by the job offer.  The co-chairs of ESUN’s Disarmament and Verification Committee were looking to fill one of the coveted special advisor slots within the month, and someone had dropped her name into the running (unbeknownst to her). 

It had all happened so fast.  An interview, an offer, a farewell, and a flight back to Earth. 

Although the ESUN’s General Assembly remained headquartered in New York, key committees had been scattered throughout the Earth Sphere with the end of the conflict.  Since AC 196, Brussels had housed several of them.  The Disarmament Committee itself boasted the largest membership and staff.  Debates, testimonies, close liaison with the Preventers…all united in a single purpose: the events of 195 (and everything that came before) would never happen again. 

Easier said than done, she knew.  During her orientation, one of her new teammates had led her out onto the then-empty Committee debate floor and Relena had felt such a dizzying wave of purpose, she had to take a seat in one of the empty chairs. 

The other woman had slid into the seat next to her.  Narantsetseg, who was only a few years her senior, was as fiercely intimidating as she was fiercely beautiful.  Relena swallowed down her uncertainty and struggled to recompose herself. 

“Are you okay?” Narantsetseg asked. 

“Yes, yes I’m fine,” Relena assured, feeling thoroughly embarrassed. 

The other woman studied her for a moment and then offered a coy smile.  “It is a bit overwhelming at first.” She turned to look out over the ocean of seats.  “This is where it all happens, not the General Assembly.  This is where we protect the future.  This is where we catch the people in their lies with the help of satellite imagery courtesy the Preventers.”  She paused and then added, “Those sessions can get… _heated_.” 

Narantsetseg turned to Relena once more and after a moment seemed satisfied that the anxiety had passed.  “Maybe now isn’t the right time to tell you, but the Chairs want to give you the problem children.” 

Surprised, Relena asked, “Why’s that?” 

“The consensus between them is that you have a way with people.  Makes them honest,” Narantsetseg said with another small smile that turned dangerous as she spoke.  “But the staff is taking bets on whether you learned anything about handing people their own heads from Quatre Winner while you were up on L4.” 

Relena grinned right back.  “I like to hold that particular skillset in reserve.” 

Narantsetseg laughed heartily at this, the first time Relena had heard it.  “Honey, you are going to fit in just fine.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Apartment #718**  
**New York, New York  
** **205 May 3**

“So…I got a job,” the little video image of Duo informed him.  He sounded sheepish. 

Heero smiled back into the camera.  “Congrats,” he said before leaning backward to call across the main living area to Wufei, “Duo got a job.” 

Wufei promptly snapped his book shut and stood up from his place on the couch, walking over to join his roommate at the kitchen table.  Heero repositioned the laptop so the two of them were within the camera’s eye.  “That’s great news.  With who?” 

“Is it one of the ones you interviewed with while you were here?” Heero added. 

Duo nodded and informed them, “The ESUN.  In Brussels.” 

Wufei started to laugh.  “You thought you had escaped the ESUN when you left Preventers.” 

Duo grinned at them both.  “Yeah well.  Clearly I have a masochistic streak.” 

“Relena just transferred there,” Heero told him.  “Be sure to send her coded messages from the booth if you end up working for her.” 

“Roger that.” 

“Coded messages or no – at least this is a respectable job,” Wufei mused.  “Heero has been worried you’d start up a smuggling business after graduation.” 

Duo snorted.  “It’s not as if I haven’t considered it.” 

“Exactly,” Heero said, not entirely able to keep the exasperation out of his voice.  He tried again, calmer, “When do you start?” 

“Not till July, but I’m tempted to bump up the start date.  Skip graduation and move as soon as finals are done—” 

“You _can’t_ skip graduation,” Wufei asserted, sounding utterly aghast at the very notion.  Heero nodded beside him. 

“But why not?” Duo challenged.  “It’s just a bunch of arcane ceremonial nonsense for twenty seconds on a stage to get a piece of paper.  Which they can _mail_ to me…” 

“It’s closure.  And you’re the first of us to do this—” 

“The street kid outta L2 is the only one to have completed any higher education.  Oh the irony,” Duo laughed. 

Heero smirked and offered, “Whenever you get bored, just remember you’re sticking it to Wufei who can only take one class a term which means he won’t be done for another…ten years or so.” 

Wufei glared at him.  Between clenched teeth, he hissed, “It’s not as if I can add any more hours to the day.” 

“Maybe you should talk to Quatre about that.  See if WEI is experimenting with warped time at all.” 

From the vid feed, Duo suggested, “You could always quit and go full-time.”  He gave them a double thumbs-up and an excessively wide grin.  Paired with the shadows under his eyes, Heero thought he looked the part for the over-caffeinated student.  The thought made him smile. 

Wufei offered a bitter smile in answer to Duo’s idea.  “It’s not as if I haven’t considered it.”  Duo laughed heartily at his own words echoed back to him.  In the lull in conversation, Wufei gave Heero a meaningful look and retreated back to the couch and his book. 

Heero turned his attention wholly on Duo once more and murmured, “I realize those twenty seconds are short, but they’re important.” 

Duo sobered then and eyed him in silence for a time.  “Even if you’re not there?” he asked. 

“Especially if we’re not there,” Heero intoned.  “Please, Duo…for me?” 

Duo fidgeted under Heero’s scrutiny, before he eventually drew himself up and said firmly, “Okay.  Since you asked nicely.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Cirque Ste-Croix**  
**L4-V10223  
** **205 May 5**

Quatre couldn’t remember the last time he had seen Trowa perform. 

Adjusting his fake glasses on the bridge of his nose, a protective visor between the world and his fake brown eyes, he allowed himself to blend in with the crowd as they moved as a unit into the Big Top.  As he took his seat, he searched the tent for the other man. 

The clowns could be found amidst the audience, engaging in magic tricks and slapstick comedy to get the crowd—especially the youngest among them—excited before the show.  But Trowa wasn’t among them tonight. 

Quatre sat back into his seat, mildly disappointed.  He remembered Trowa telling him once how much he enjoyed making the children smile; Quatre had meanwhile enjoyed the glimpse beyond the calculated exterior to the softer parts which lay beneath.  He’d hoped for a similar encounter tonight, perhaps selfishly, but it seemed it was not to be. 

And then…the lights dimmed, a hush fell over the crowd, and the show began. 

Gone were the days of circus animals, leaving in their wake death-defying feats of human ingenuity and madness.  Brilliant costumes and stunning acrobatics had him enthralled along with the rest of the audience.  Even the ringmaster's off-color jokes had the adults chuckling while a chorus of little voices asked what was so funny.  Quatre gave a start when he saw Catherine enter the ring without her brother and he began to wonder if perhaps he’d gotten the dates wrong. 

But then the silks descended from the ceiling like waterfalls and Trowa appeared as if out of thin air in the center ring. 

As the opening chords of some melancholy lullaby drifted around the tent, Trowa ascended, twisting himself in knots in the fabric.  Defying gravity, he contorted and climbed, the silks binding and coiling around his torso and legs.  He fought the embrace of the silks, arching and spiraling away, before folding himself back into the cocoon the fabric offered.  As the music crescendoed, Trowa threw his body away from the safety of the silks and into the open air, plummeting headfirst toward the floor before arresting the drop barely a meter from the ground. 

Quatre released the breath in his lungs he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in a rush.  “Wow,” he gasped as Trowa’s performance drew to a close with thunderous applause.  _Beautiful_ , he thought as at long last Trowa broke the fourth wall to give the crowd a modest bow before disappearing as mysteriously as he had appeared, a ghost in a sea of blue silk.


	8. Chapter 8

**Graduates’ Reception, Jakarta Institute for Language Studies**  
**Jakarta, Indonesia  
** **205 June 10**

The certificate felt alien and heavy in Duo’s hands.  Amidst the boisterous celebrations and toasts going on around him, he’d sneak glances down at the text to read it again, still in shock that another chapter was closed.  Two years of his life for a piece of paper which boasted – in calligraphy no less – that he’d completed his degree.  It felt surreal.  _Wait till they see it,_ Duo thought with a grin. 

At just that moment, he felt a faint buzzing coming from his pocket.  Withdrawing his mobile, he smiled down at the caller ID display. 

“New York?” Seo-yeon asked from off to his right. 

“New York,” Duo confirmed, answering Wufei’s call with a simple, “Hey!”  The other man’s words were indecipherable with the commotion around him.  “I can’t hear you.  Hold on.” 

Duo weaved through the bodies of the crowd, students and faculty alike, finally escaping out a side door into the blessedly empty hallway.  “Sorry,” he apologized on the other end. 

“Are you sitting down?” Wufei asked, all business. 

“No, I’m at a reception.  Not a whole lot of chairs present.” 

There was a heavy pause and then a deep breath before the words tumbled from Wufei.  “Duo, Heero’s been shot.” 

Duo felt the floor drop out from under him.  His fingers went lax and the certificate fell to the floor as he stretched out his hand to steady himself against the wall.  “What?” he asked, breathless.  Surely he’d misheard. 

“Heero’s been shot,” Wufei repeated.  “We’re at the hospital.  The doctors are patching him up now.”  After a beat, he continued, “He…bled a lot.  But he’s going to be okay.” 

Duo leaned back against the wall as Wufei spoke, sliding down to sit on the floor, his legs buckling.  _Christ, first Trowa.  Now Heero…_ With a shudder, a bitter chuckle escaped his lips and he croaked, “What is it with the U.S. and small arms, huh?” 

He heard Wufei sigh on the other end of the line.  “Your guess is as good as mine.” 

With a steadying breath, Duo planted his feet back on the floor and pushed himself upright once more.  Still shaken, he told Wufei, “I’ll be on a plane tonight.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Location Unknown**  
**Date Unknown  
** **Presumably still AC 205**

Heero returned to consciousness slowly, fighting his way upstream through the comforting haze of oblivion.  Some part of his waking mind knew this meant he had been drugged.  Voices drifted around and above him, detached and indiscernible though somehow still familiar. 

He remembered the raid going badly, remembered the bright flash of pain as a stray bullet caught his thigh.  Remembered cursing a blue streak that would make Duo proud as he improvised a tourniquet with his belt.  Remembered Wufei’s furious black eyes that promised death for anyone who got between them and the ER. 

_Stupid_ , he thought.  _Damn lucky, too._  

And then, _Duo.  Graduation._  

“Dammit,” Heero croaked, his voice rasping in his throat. 

A warm chuckle came from somewhere else in the room—it was difficult to isolate the sound with his head still teetering on the edge of sleep.  Heero took a deep breath and concentrated on opening his eyes against the room’s harsh light.  It took a moment for them to focus on the chair in the corner opposite his bed.  Draped over the chair’s back was a black cloak and a white…sash?  No, he thought as he attempted to take a more critical view, a white hood. [1]  “You walked,” he whispered suddenly, almost reverently, when the pieces fell into place. 

“You asked me to,” Duo’s gentle reply came, somewhere near his left arm. 

Heero felt his heart drop.  “I should have called.” 

Again, Duo chuckled.  “You were kinda preoccupied.  You know—having been shot and all.” 

Heero turned then to face the other man.  Duo was watching him, the corners of his eyes squinting while he smiled.  Those eyes laughed at him but just beneath the surface there was some heavy burden.  Duo hadn’t shaved in a couple days from the looks of it, an observation that made him feel odd.

Heero was silent a moment before he said, “I’m glad you walked.” 

Duo shook his head and ran his fingers through his dark hair.  With a sigh, he leaned forward to brace his elbows on his knees.  “Yeah, well…I had already done the ceremony and all when I got the call from Wufei.  I was on a plane that night—” 

“I’m proud of you,” Heero said softly, interrupting the other man.  In the stunned silence that followed the admission, he watched an infinite number of unspoken thoughts pass behind Duo’s eyes.  “I am,” he insisted, determined to stamp out any stray threads of doubt before they could fester within the other man as he felt himself fading again under the sedatives. 

“Thank you,” Duo murmured at last, reluctantly accepting the praise.  He shifted to lean back in his chair and instructed, “You should rest.  And don’t try to fight off the meds this time, okay?  The nurses don’t like that.”

“Okay,” Heero sighed, closing his eyes.  “Stay…till I fall asleep?  Then you should go eat something.  And shave.  Don’t argue with me.  I’m heavily medicated after all.” 

Duo laughed again and it sounded to Heero as if some tension had bled from him following the exchange.  As Heero drifted off once more, he heard Duo answer, “Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Based off of the information from these [two](http://www.acenet.edu/news-room/Pages/Academic-Costume-Code.aspx) [links](http://www.academicapparel.com/caps/regalia_colors.html), and the fact that Duo has gotten a degree in translation/interpretation, I went with white for his hood color.  If anyone knows if that’s wrong, let me know.


	10. Chapter 10

**Apartment #718**  
**New York, New York  
** **205 June 29**

Heero’s recovery and departure from the hospital came faster than the doctors had expected, even when they had factored the nano-augmentation [1] into account.  They viewed his unassisted hobbling to and from his bed with anxiety or frustration, depending on their personal sentiments, and only begrudgingly agreed to release him when Duo volunteered to stay on as his personal nursemaid. 

At first, Heero thought Duo’s presence would mean little coddling as he recovered.  He was thus disappointed to discover that upon their return to the apartment, a mandatory bed rest order was put in place.  Heero had at first thought to protest, but the moment he opened his mouth to do so, he thought better of it.  He’d seen the look in those L2 blue eyes before and nothing good ever came of further aggravating their owner.  

And so Heero had spent his days on the couch and his nights in bed, staring wistfully out the apartment’s windows while he struggled to keep himself from going stir crazy.  Duo was his only escape, offering sarcasm and encouragement in equal measure. 

And as the days became a week, Heero found that there was an ache growing in his chest which refused to disperse.  The longer Duo stayed, the more persistent it became. 

One evening, Heero had lain awake staring at the ceiling of his room as he studied this stubborn pain that clung to his heart, assessing and dissecting it well into the night while Duo slept on the other side of the bed.  It wasn’t an unfamiliar thing, he concluded.  He’d felt this way before.  And as he considered all those times it had manifested—or at least those he could recall—he discerned a pattern. 

Duo.  Always, it came with Duo. 

The realization sent his heart rate spiraling as his mouth went dry.  Struggling to swallow down the rising panic, Heero’s subconscious berated himself. _You care about him._  

But he cared about the others too, he reasoned with his other half. 

_Different.  You like them.  They’re family.  You **care** about Duo._  

Shit _._  

As daylight came and time seemed to warp and stretch within the apartment, Heero allowed himself to nurture the ache in his chest—just for now, just for this moment.  He held it close until it hurt like some beautiful and dangerous thing. 

A week became two and still Duo stayed, shared his bed, filled his days with comfortable chatter, and the longer it went on, the more Heero’s brain started to entertain a ludicrous notion. 

_What if what if what if_ … 

One night, it became too much for him to bear in silence and as he watched Duo get ready for bed, Heero heard himself say, “Do you think—?” before he could stop himself. 

Too late.  Duo turned to regard him before pulling an old band shirt on over his head.  “Do I think what?” he asked. 

Startled, Heero shook his head.  “Nothing. Never mind, forget it.  Good night,” he stammered before lying back and closing his eyes, willing sleep to come swiftly. 

Duo didn’t press the issue, but Heero could feel his eyes on him in the darkness of the room.  The silence that stretched between them was uncharacteristically heavy with unspoken questions.  But then Heero heard Duo roll over with a sigh and the tension passed. 

They both woke early the next morning, neither mentioning the exchange from the night before.  As they sat down to breakfast with Wufei—who was flitting in and out of their apartment-based life while he struggled to keep up with a workload intended for _two_ people—Heero began to think he had avoided some horrible transgression. 

But then Duo asked, “What were you going to ask me last night?” 

Heero chanced a glance down the table at Wufei, who paid them no mind, too wrapped up in the emails on his phone.  To Duo, Heero answered, “It’s a long conversation.” 

Duo shrugged.  “Not like I have anywhere to be—we’ve got all day.” 

At this, Wufei stood and slung the strap of his briefcase over his shoulder.  The movement caught Heero’s attention, and he wondered whether his roommate had been paying closer attention than he’d originally thought. 

Eyes still glued to the screen of his phone, Wufei offered only, “I’m out.  I’ll be back around eight tonight.” 

“‘Kay,” Duo replied. 

“Bye,” Heero murmured, watching Wufei’s back retreat out of the room and down the hall.  Losing sight of him as he rounded the corner, he drummed his fingertips against the coffee cup he held between them and turned his attention back Duo. 

The other man’s eyes were locked on him, his face a mask of calm.  The moment they heard the front door close behind Wufei, Duo prompted, “Well?” 

“Well what?” 

Duo sighed with growing exasperation.  “What were you going to ask me last night?” 

Heero judged it unwise to answer honestly and opted instead to look anywhere but into those blue-violet eyes. His hand came up to his mouth and he had begun to worry a fingernail between his teeth before he realized what he was doing.  Dropping his hand into his lap, he glued his eyes to the tabletop. 

The silence was broken only when Duo pushed his chair back from the table and stood.  “Well if it’s going to be _that_ long of a conversation, let’s relocate,” he said, offering his hand to Heero who hesitated only a moment before allowing the other man to help him stand.  

They moved to the couch and sat, Heero propping his leg up on the coffee table before Duo could tell him to do as much.  Duo nodded in approval before dropping onto the couch beside him.  Drawing his legs up underneath him, he asked Heero, “So what’s going on?” 

Heero considered his options carefully, eventually settling on, “Are you seeing anyone right now?” 

“What, like dating?” Duo laughed.  “Not the direction I expected us to go in.  But no, I’m not seeing anyone.” 

“Why not?” 

Duo eyed him with mounting suspicion.  “Beyond the practical reason of ‘I graduated and am moving to Brussels,’ I guess because nothing ever really worked out.  Heero, what are you—?” 

“Nothing ever worked out for me either,” Heero said, cutting him off, shifting so that he faced the other man more directly.  “The last few days I…I’ve had this thought.  What if…what if we dated each other?” 

There was a long, breathless pause while Duo stared at him, his face unreadable.  And then he muttered, “You’re serious,” betraying his shock.  

Heero gave him a stiff nod and felt his resolve falter when Duo ran his fingers through his short hair with a groan. 

“Shit, Heero,” Duo cursed between clenched teeth. “How long have you felt this way?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“You don’t know or you won’t tell me?” 

Heero winced.  “I don’t know.” 

Duo huffed, sounding defeated, and curled further in on himself.  Defensive.  “I’m bad news, Heero.  You don’t want to date me,” he murmured, looking away. 

“Why not?” Heero asked. When Duo didn’t respond, he challenged, “Because you have baggage?”  Duo shot him a seething glare but didn’t protest.  _Bingo_.  Heero shrugged to soften the jab.  “So do I.  It doesn’t matter.” 

“It _does_ matter,” Duo argued, sounding more plaintive than angry. “Look at what happened with Quat and Trowa.” 

“We’re not them, Duo—” 

“And what happens when it doesn’t work out, huh?” Duo challenged, but the fight had fled him as soon as it had appeared.  He breathed, “You’re my best friend.  I…I don’t want to lose that.” 

“You won’t,” Heero assured, his fingers itching to touch him.  “Nothing would change.” 

Duo scoffed at that.  “Right.  It _always_ changes.” 

“It doesn’t have to,” Heero told him, and this time he did reach out to take Duo’s hand in his, surprised at how natural it felt to do so.  “Nothing would have to change, not really.  Not unless you wanted it to.”  

This caught the other man’s attention.  Pinning him with his gaze, Duo asked, “What do you mean?” 

“I mean we wouldn’t do anything you didn’t want to,” Heero clarified.  “You’re my best friend too, you know.”  Duo smirked back at him, but it was colored with lingering doubt.  Heero took a deep breath.  “You asked me how long I’ve felt like this, and truthfully I don’t know.  Because I can’t put into words what this feeling is.  Not yet.  Maybe not ever.  But you’re different.  You’re different from everyone else: you’re first.  And as far as I can tell, you’ve been first for a long time.  And I—” Heero hesitated, took another deep breath, and plunged ahead.  “—I want to be first for you too.” 

Heero watched Duo’s gaze waver and fall to their clasped hands.  He waited for the other man to speak, to say something, anything, to this admission.  When he didn’t, Heero continued, “I can’t guarantee this would work.  I just ask that you trust me, and…and we try. Just to see.” 

“A test drive,” Duo muttered, his voice hoarse. 

“An experiment,” Heero countered.  “One that the others don’t need to know about.” 

Duo straightened where he sat and brought his eyes up to study Heero’s face in silence for a time. Eventually, he lowered his eyes once more and asked, hesitant, “Can I think about it?” 

Through the spike of dread the question inspired, Heero replied, “Of course.” 

Duo nodded and released Heero’s hand.  Standing, his gaze distant, he walked away. 

Frozen in place, Heero watched the man walk out of the apartment.  _He’s running_ , he realized, fear in his belly.  Alone in the apartment for the first time since he’d come home from the hospital, Heero fell back against the couch, his strength leaving him.  _He’s running because he can’t lie.  Which means the answer isn’t ‘Yes.’_  

Fleeting hopes dashed, Heero threw an arm over his eyes as a shield against the morning light.  His heart burned in his chest while his breath came in strangled gasps.  _Stupid stupid stupid…_  

***** 

He must have fallen asleep at some point, for when he came back to himself there was the pressure at his shoulder of someone gently shaking him.  As he blinked his eyes open, he found Duo crouched before him next to the couch, the light from the window behind him painting the room in the muted hues of a fading summer day.  Struggling to sit up, he asked, “What time is it?” 

“Nearly dinnertime,” Duo answered.  “Don’t tell me you slept all day.” 

Now fully upright and aware, Heero looked down at the other man.  “Where were you?” he asked, wincing at his own inability to keep the words from sounding accusatory. 

If Duo noticed, he didn’t rise to the challenge.  “Buying ingredients,” he supplied, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder toward the kitchen. Under Heero’s eyes, he began to fidget and added, quieter, “And thinking.” 

Heero didn’t dare hope. He took a steadying breath and waited while Duo gathered his thoughts. 

“I keep everyone at a distance,” Duo murmured, as if he was sharing something he’d never before dared say aloud.  “Even the ones that matter the most.  I try to make it so that they can’t tell, so that they don’t know, but everyone’s at arm’s length.  I’ve always done it.  I don’t like feeling vulnerable.  So if I make it so that they can’t touch me, or see me…then I’m safe.  Or _safer_ , at least.  The few times I’ve let people in…it…it didn’t end well.” 

Duo swallowed thickly before raising his eyes to meet Heero’s.  “But then you came along.  And you got in.  I don’t know how…or when…but you did.  It scares the _shit_ out of me, and now I…I don’t know what to do.  So I guess…your idea is as good as any.  The Experiment, I mean.”  He paused and waited for Heero’s response.  When none came, he prompted, “Okay?” 

Breathless and stunned, Heero parroted back, “Okay.” 

But as he stared back into those bottomless blue-violet eyes, he watched Duo’s face crumple.  “Wait, Heero—” Duo bit his lower lip and reached up to him to cradle his face between his hands, his thumbs rough against his cheekbones where they wiped away tears Heero hadn’t realized had fallen. “I…I thought that was the right answer.” 

Heero closed his eyes and ducked his head, his right hand coming up to wrap calloused fingers around Duo’s wrist.  At the touch, Duo climbed up onto the couch to sit with him and pulled him into a tight embrace, his fingers tangling in his sleep-tousled hair. 

Heero buried his eyes in the crook of the other man’s neck and tried to remember how to breathe.  He’d been so sure, so certain that Duo’s flight from the apartment earlier that day had spelled the end.  Shaken by the abrupt change of direction, he was left feeling off-kilter and dizzy.  But Duo felt solid in his arms, and that was enough to help soothe his frayed nerves. 

Pulling away, Duo ran his thumbs across Heero’s cheekbones again and urged, “Come on,” before he stretched out and arm to the box of tissues conveniently sitting on a corner of the end table nearby.  He passed it to Heero, who went about drying his eyes.  “We can’t have Wufei coming home, taking one look at you and demanding to know what the Hell I did to you.  ‘Cause my response is gonna be, ‘Nothing! We just had a really emotional conversation about stuff and things and now we’re dating.’” 

Heero started to laugh despite the unbalanced feeling that still resided in his belly.  

Duo grinned at him and continued, “Which – ya know – kinda defeats the purpose of this whole secret experiment thing.  But think of his _face_.”  This prompted another bout of laughter, heartier now, from Heero who was caught off-guard by the mental images.  With his best imitation of their absent friend, Duo let loose a “‘What?!’” and drawled, “for five minutes it would be _glorious_ but then he’d whip out his cell and be all, ‘Barton! You won’t believe what these assholes just told me!’” 

As their laughter faded, Duo’s grin softened. After a shared moment of silence, Duo asked only, “Okay?”  Heero nodded. “Good.”  He glanced down at Heero’s injured leg and suggested, “How about we get you moving.  Think you can make it to the kitchen on your own?”  Heero nodded again, already pushing himself up and away from the couch. Duo grinned and hopped to his own feet and headed across the room, while Heero followed.  “Fantastic.  You can be my sous chef, or at least you can until Wufei comes home and finds you standing without crutches.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Reminder: Heero has nanobots swimming around his bloodstream, which helps him heal quicker and ward off diseases better.  Duo had the same done.


	11. Chapter 11

**JFK International Airport**  
**New York, New York  
** **205 July 22**

The normality of it all had been unexpected.  Duo had been prepared for an awkward transition, for fumbling excuses for intimacy, stilted attempts at flirting, and dodgy evasions as Wufei would inevitably catch on that something had changed.  These were things he’d come to know, to consider synonymous with “dating:” obligations and discomfort and eventual failure. 

In the weeks that had followed the launch of “The Experiment,” as they called it, Duo had been pleasantly surprised to discover that nothing— _nothing_ —had changed between them.  Their conversations still held playful jabs.  The quiet which he had long since lost the need to fill remained untouched.  And when he crawled into bed at night, the jitters in his belly were soothed away by Heero’s nonchalance at sharing the space. 

As he counted down the days to his inevitable departure, however, nagging questions began to scratch at his brain.  _What if Heero decides this won’t work long-distance? What if he decides I’m not worth the effort?  What if he discovers how messed up I really am?_  

But then Duo would remember the shock on Heero’s face when he agreed to try this, the tears that had come as a surprise to both of them.  _What if he hurts like I do?  What if he’s lonely like I am?_  

_What if this could work?_  

And so, as Duo flitted about the apartment packing for his flight, he chanced occasional glances at Heero, who sat quietly out of the way watching the scattershot process, and dared for the briefest of moments to _hope_. 

They spent the train rides to the airport largely wrapped in comfortable silence, broken only by occasional queries about his flight, his new job, whether or not his things had made it from Jakarta to Brussels…safe, easy questions. 

Upon arrival, Heero walked beside him, hands tucked away in his pockets, as they made their way to the security checkpoint.  Just before, they paused off to the side.  Duo sensed a rising tension and sought to head it off with a wide grin.  “So _what_ are you going to do next time someone pulls a gun on you?” he asked, his voice teasing. 

“Get out of the way of the bullet,” Heero answered, his lips turned upward in the faintest of smiles. 

Duo nodded.  “That’s right.  And make sure Wufei does the same.  Ya’ll don’t need anymore holes.” 

Heero was quiet for a moment, his eyes drifting to the space between them.  “Enjoy the new job,” he said.  “You’ll like it, I think.” 

Duo grinned back at him. “I should hope so.  But if it’s not all it’s cracked up to be, I could always start up that smuggling business.”  This got Heero’s attention – the man’s eyes refocused on him, alight with exasperation.  Duo chuckled and held up his hands in defense.  “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” 

He then drew Heero into a strong embrace, his arms wrapping around the other man’s shoulders.  After a beat, he felt Heero sigh against him. “Call me when you get home,” Heero said, the words rumbling against Duo’s shoulder. 

“Of course,” Duo assured. Pulling away, he adjusted the strap of his duffel on his shoulder.  “I’ll see you later…” 

Heero nodded, taking a half-step backward with a muted, “Bye.” 

Duo offered a reassuring smile and headed to security.  But as he walked, the more he felt…off.  Like a moment in time was passing him by, leaving him unsatisfied. Drawing up short of the queue, he groaned and pivoted on his heel to search the crowd.  He spotted Heero’s retreating form in the distance, heading back toward the trains.  

Duo cursed under his breath and bolted, his feet beating the floor below with a steady, hasty rhythm. “Heero!” he called out once he was within earshot.  The other man stopped and turned, his eyes betraying his confusion.  Then in one fluid motion, Duo slid to a stop before him, dropped his duffel to the floor, and kissed him. 

The chaste thing was rushed and uncertain, lips and teeth and poor form.  Embarrassed, Duo pulled away…but Heero followed, wrapping his arms around Duo’s thin waist to hold him close as he deepened the kiss.  Eyes closed, Duo felt his breath stolen time and again by the gentle coaxing of soft lips.  Dizzy, his hands drifted up between them, his fingers caressing Heero’s face with an unfamiliar tenderness.  Time slowed and the world faded around them. 

When they parted, Duo bit his tingling lower lip and leaned forward to press their foreheads together, not quite ready to part from the other man. 

“You should go,” Heero murmured after a moment.  “You’ll miss your flight.” 

Duo was silent, unable to string words together that would provide a coherent response.  After a beat, Heero shifted back and craned his neck up to press a chaste kiss to his forehead.  Duo sighed at the touch and finally straightened, withdrawing.  Hefting his duffel bag over his shoulder once more. He studied Heero’s face for a moment, finding those clear blue eyes warmer than before, a faint flush dusting his cheeks. 

It made him smile.  “I’ll call when I get home,” Duo said, throwing in a wink for good measure. 

“I’ll be waiting,” Heero replied, gracing him with his own subtle smile. 

And as Duo retreated back to the security checkpoint, he couldn’t help running his fingers over his lips, unable to dispel the lingering, phantom pressure.


	12. Chapter 12

**Aksum Coffee House**  
**Brussels, Belgium  
** **205 August 1**

What good karma she had reaped to enjoy _this_ moment in time, Dorothy Catalonia couldn’t begin to guess.  A sunny afternoon in Belgium, sitting across from one Miss Relena Darlian—a woman who she hadn’t seen in person in a decade—debating the geopolitics of disarmament.  It was a dream from which Dorothy loathed to wake; it had been no small feat to get Relena so far away from her desk and her duties.  The glass and steel behemoth, which had at one point in history housed the European Parliament, now loomed large in the Eastern quadrant of Brussels with its globalized, ESUN mission. 

Just as Dorothy was about to launch a second attack on the other woman’s pacifistic tendencies, something behind her caught Relena’s eye.  “Oh, thank God for small miracles,” Relena muttered and her hand shot skyward as if to gain some unseen person’s attention. 

Turning to follow Relena’s gaze over her shoulder, Dorothy spotted none other than Quatre Winner, who approached their table cautiously as if he had perhaps hoped to skirt into the café undetected.  As he drew up beside them, Dorothy found him taller, his shoulders broader, the angles of his face more pronounced…observations which altogether banished the youth of her childhood memories.  

“It’s a surprise to see you both here, Miss Darlian, Miss Catalonia,” Quatre said, greeting each of them with a nod of his head.  “I didn’t want to interrupt.  You both looked rather engaged.” 

Dorothy smiled up at him. “Nonsense.” 

“I need you as reinforcement,” Relena added.  “She’s burying me.” 

Quatre laughed and pulled over a chair from a vacant table nearby.  As he settled, and exchanged pleasantries with Relena, Dorothy took a moment to study him more closely.  Older, polished and pressed, Quatre was every ounce the business executive.  But just underneath the surface, there was a battle that simmered even now.  Quatre Winner had willfully sheathed his claws in his present incarnation, not removed them.  It made her smile, and Quatre noticed.  

“So, what was this grand debate about that you were so soundly defeating Miss Darlian?” 

“The rational decision-making which goes into irrational actions to attain one’s political ends,” Dorothy answered, her voice syrup-sweet as she leaned toward him. 

Quatre winced theatrically. “Perhaps I should order something. We could be here awhile…” he said and leaned back to signal a waiter. 

They spent nearly an hour together lancing one another’s arguments and trading subtle jabs at political leanings, laughing as they did so, and Dorothy allowed herself the time to—for once—relax amidst good company.  The years since the conflict and Mariemaia’s Insurrection had left her well-positioned financially, even if it meant flying below the radar at times. She’d joined the ranks of a “consulting” firm of sorts, charging up the ladder with the help of her pedigree and her contacts.  Chance would have it that the gravitational pull of Relena Darlian’s orbit would draw her—and others, as Quatre’s presence proved—back to Belgium. 

The time passed too quickly. Soon Relena was excusing herself for the necessary return to her work with a glance at the clock on her phone display and Dorothy and Quatre bid her farewell.  Alone together for the first time since she’d stabbed the man through his flight suit, Dorothy found herself as intrigued by him now as she had been as a girl.  They whiled away the afternoon with politics and economics and the Preventers’ future. 

At last, she found herself asking, “Are you a gambling man, Mr. Winner?” 

Quatre studied her before he replied cautiously, “Figuratively, professionally…yes, I suppose.” 

Dorothy smiled.  “I’d like to make you a wager.  I will bet you that within a decade, you’ll be on the L4 Council and will serve as one of the island’s representatives to the ESUN.” 

The light behind Quatre’s eyes grew cold.  She’d hit on something, something he clearly didn’t want to consider.  Not yet.  “I’d prefer to leave the political business to the experts.” 

“Oh, of course,” Dorothy acknowledged with a flippant wave of her hand.  “But there always comes a time when one can’t sit on the sidelines any longer.  And I hope that - when that time comes for you - I’ll be counted among your allies, if not among the friends.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Earth Sphere United Nations**  
**Brussels, Belgium  
** **205 August 30**

Junior Senator Michael Reuson watched the news feed playing on the adjacent wall’s television screen while he waited in line at the pop-up café in the Mezzanine.  The ESUN President was announcing his decision _not_ to press for colonial independence, thus delaying the decision on the Islands’ permanent membership status yet again.  _Shame_ , he thought with a grimace. 

“Coward.” 

Reuson turned from the television to the young man ahead of him in the queue.  His gaze was locked on the newsfeed, watching text scroll across the bottom. 

“He’s not a coward,” said the man next to the young stranger, sounding every bit the apologist.  “He’s constrained by his position and the Assembly.  Plus, he’s in the tail end of his term.  What’s he supposed to do?  He can’t push anything through this late in the game.” 

“Last I checked, he was still sitting President until January 1,” the young man argued, his voice bitter as he turned to face his companion, “so this is _exactly_ the time to push something through.  He’s had five years and has done fuck all about this.” 

“He got the colonial population a seat—” 

“At the invitation of the founding nations.  Which we all still pay tribute to, by the way.  They’ve just gotten sneaky about how to extract it since the conflict.” 

_Colonial_ , Reuson realized with interest.  He took a step forward as the line progressed towards the cash register and hoped his eavesdropping wasn’t too obvious. 

“L4 is independent in everything but name due to savvy negotiation tactics over the years.  The Pan-Asian Bloc has been messaging that they’d consider independence if L1 is willing to give them a favorable trade deal, which colonial leadership has suggested they’re up for.  But where does that leave L2?  Or L3?  Or the L5 diaspora?”  The young man shook his head with a sigh of frustration.  “The dialogue has to change.  It can’t be about what Earth gets out of us—ya’ll have gotten plenty to date.  It has to be about what’s _right_.  We need our self-determination or there will never really be peace.” 

“And what is the ESUN President supposed to do?” his companion asked. 

“Peer pressure, public shaming, and back-door negotiations.  But it’ll be messy, and the President hasn’t wanted to get his hands dirty.  In truth, he’s of the same ilk that says the L5 colonials who didn’t blow up in ’95 [1] are a burden to society.”  The young man’s companion pursed his lips as if to respond, and he cut him off with, “And if you’re about to say, ‘Well they are,’ I may have to break your face.” 

Reuson promptly lost the battle with his laughter and chuckled heartily behind the pair, unable to hide his eavesdropping any longer.  The two turned to lock eyes on him.  The bureaucratic apologist took one glance at the green badge that marked him a ESUN representative and paled; the younger man didn’t even bother, apparently indifferent to his rank.  It was then that Reuson got a good look at the tell-tale blue-violet eyes staring him down. 

“Ya think I’m kidding?” the young man asked him, his tone civil but his words combative. 

“No, not at all,” Reuson assured with a smile.  “In fact, I think you’re _deadly_ serious.” 

There was a flash of appreciation in those L2 Blue eyes at his choice of words and the young man smirked up at him.  “‘Deadly serious,’” he echoed.  “I like it.”  He turned away then, losing interest in the Senator.  As they moved forward to the cashier, Reuson heard him mutter under his breath, “You don’t know the half of it, _hermano_ …” [2]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Point of order: in LAM!verse, the L5 population had been condensed down to one colony (L5-A0206) as the Alliance’s blockade made colonial maintenance increasingly difficult. This means that the only survivors left are the ones who weren’t on-colony when it blew: exiled criminals (or “criminals” given L5’s stringent societal rules), freedom fighters, blockade runners, etc.
> 
> [2] According to [this source](http://www.speakinglatino.com/spanish-slang-for-friend/), mano/hermano can be used as slang for "friend/buddy" throughout much of Latin America. I didn't want to use "güey" because Duo and L2 are not linguistically sourced solely to Mexico.


	14. Chapter 14

**NYC Preventers Branch Office**  
**New York, New York  
** **205 September 9**

Wufei’s promotion to Deputy Branch Director had been announced with little fanfare during an “All Hands” meeting.  It came as little surprise to most of the assembled staff; he had been serving in the position in an on-and-off capacity over the last three months and had been the senior liaison agent for much longer. 

He did feel guilty about not discussing the transition with Heero in advance, however.  During the staff meeting, he had chanced a glance at his roommate from across the room.  Heero had remained outwardly stoic, but Wufei had caught the flash of surprise in those blue eyes.  Heero had then stayed out of sight for much of the day, bouncing between meetings they had traditionally attended together, while Wufei packed up his desk and relocated to his new office. 

Pausing in the threshold, Wufei took a deep breath and stepped forward into the room on his right foot.  _Superstitious_ , he berated himself, but couldn’t fight the smile the action had brought.  New beginnings deserved some acknowledgment and a lot of luck after all.  Setting his box of files onto his new desk, he took in the space—which was massive in comparison to the cubicles—and started unpacking. 

Some time later, Heero appeared at his doorway.  “Congratulations on the promotion,” he said. 

“Thanks,” Wufei answered as he closed the filing cabinet and turned back to his desk, wondering whether he could be bothered to rearrange his new office furniture.  In the corner of his eye, he watched Heero hover and shift his weight between his feet.  Wufei leveled his roommate with a look and prompted, “Yes?” 

“Does this mean I have to move out of the apartment?” 

Wufei couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his lips at the question.  “No, you don’t have to move.” 

“You’re sure?” 

“I asked HR.  It’s fine,” Wufei replied, dispelling the other man’s concerns with a wave of his hand. 

“Did you _ask_ HR, or did you _tell_ HR?” Heero amended, eyeing the other man with mounting suspicion. 

Wufei considered the question and felt the beginnings of a conspiratorial smile.  “I…may have been rather adamant in my ability to remain objective.  And I _might_ have noted the impracticality of finding suitable living arrangements in this housing market for the only two single colonial officers in the branch.” 

Heero relaxed at this.  “You’ve always been feisty, Wufei, but now you’re empowered.  I kind of like it.” 

Wufei laughed darkly.  “Only while it benefits you, I’m sure.” 

“I’ll endeavor not to be late with any of my field reports.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Earth Sphere United Nations**  
**Brussels, Belgium  
** **205 October 12**

Relena sat in the Mezzanine sipping an espresso across from Junior Senator Michael Reuson.  The man hadn’t given her much context when he’d requested the meeting, but she had assumed it was about his ESUN presidential bid in some way.  Assuming he had wanted to go over something about her committee’s briefing, she’d agreed to meet. 

She had not anticipated the motivation correctly. 

“Thank you again for meeting with me,” the older man said, his eyes squinting as he smiled at her.  “I’m hoping you can help me find someone based here in Brussels.  He made quite the impression when I was here a few months ago, but I didn’t catch his name.  I’d like to sit down with him to get to know him better, maybe offer him a job, but I don’t know how to reach him. I figured you, more than anyone, would have made a point to meet the multitude that keeps the wheels turning on the inside and may know who I’m talking about.” 

Relena felt her face betray her surprise before she could school her features.  “There are several hundred people based here in Brussels, Senator, and I can guarantee I don’t know a third of them.  The ESUN Presidential election isn’t until the end of December, and the two-month consultation window for you and the other candidates doesn’t start for another two weeks.  Aren’t you picking your staff a little early?” 

Reuson offered her a disarming, bright smile.  “Perhaps,” he admitted freely, “but as a junior senator, I endeavor to be early for everything lest someone with more clout get offended.” 

Relena laughed despite her desire to maintain some sobriety in his presence and shook her head.  Truth be told, she liked Reuson and was harboring a ludicrous hope that he’d win the election.  He reminded her of her father: patient, kind, and principled.  Happily married and father to a headstrong teenage girl.  Respected on Earth.  Trusted by the colonies. 

As the events of AC 195 faded in people's collective memory, political leadership throughout the ESUN had grown complacent.  Little had been done to better the colonial populations’ economic and political standing in the last five years and unrest was beginning to brew.  Strikes in L1 and L4, protests in L2 and L3.  Human rights groups had started reporting ongoing abuses against the scattered L5 diaspora, a development Earth governments had tried to keep out of international press. 

The ESUN could use a man like Reuson. 

Relena sighed.  “I can certainly try to find this mystery man, though I have to admit this is a rather unusual request.” 

“Wonderful,” Reuson decreed, leaning in.  “He was young, your age maybe.  Short—” he held his hand up to his shoulder, “—brown hair.  He had a blue badge, which I think makes him an interpreter.  Colonial.  L2.” 

Relena felt her mouth go dry and struggled to keep her face unreadable.  “Yes, that actually rings a bell.  I’ll see what I can do.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Quai Gustave-Ador**  
**Geneva, Switzerland  
** **205 November 21**

Sally sat on her miniscule balcony overlooking the street and the lake below, wrapped in an oversized sweater, the cool air drifting past her and into the apartment.  Her legs were stretched out before her, crossed ankles resting comfortably on the wrought iron railing.  

She had spent years sequestered to tiny apartments outside of town while she worked in the trenches of the Preventers’ lower ranks, which meant the downtown loft felt like an excessive luxury. She smirked out at the water and knew that she had her recent promotion and the Director to thank for the move.   _Indulgent_ , she chastised herself, but couldn’t find the energy to feel guilty about it.  

On the small table beside her, her tablet chirped, alerting her of an incoming call.  Sally checked her watch and grinned.  Noin always was the punctual one. 

But when the grainy video feed presented her with a grinning Lucrezia Noin, Sally could tell the smile was forced, even with the lag and occasional interference.  “Lu, what’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” the woman assured, but was already relinquishing the grip on her feigned enthusiasm.  “It’s just…” 

“What?” Sally prompted, repositioning herself to lean closer to the screen as if they were sitting across the small table from each other, not millions of miles apart. 

Noin hesitated, fidgeting.  “Sally, do you remember what you told me five, six years ago?  You told me that the moment it stopped being fun, he and I should have a talk,” she said, referring to her absent husband. 

“I recall,” Sally intoned.  “This had to be something you both wanted, and if it wasn’t—or isn’t—you have to do what’s best for you.”  She paused, but when Noin didn’t continue, she prodded as gently as possible, “Marital problems?” 

Noin grimaced.  “Not exactly.  I love him as much now as I did when we were cadets.  My days are brighter with him…which makes the fact that I’m unhappy even more painful.  I hate to leave him, but it’s been nearly a decade and I’m tired of atoning, tired of this self-imposed exile.”  She sighed, her frustration evident.  “I miss home,” she continued, quieter.  “I miss my friends, I miss Earth.  And so, I’ve decided to come back.” 

The finality of the declaration startled Sally.  “Will he come too?” she asked. 

“I don’t know,” Noin admitted, sounding hurt.  “I want him to come with me but…but I’m doubtful he will.” 

Sally shook her head and groaned.  “Oh Lu, I’m sorry.” 

“And that’s the saddest thing: I’m not.  I love him with every ounce of myself, even now.  And I’m grateful to have had these years alone with him.  He’ll always have the whole of my heart.  But I won’t sit still while my life passes me by.  Not when I owe so much of it to so many others.” 

Sally nodded and let the silence stretch between them.  So Noin was probably leaving the love of her life on the red rock.  Her heart ached for her, but she knew Noin wouldn’t have acted without a long time spent weighing her options.  So, she redirected to the future.  “When should we expect you?” 

“May or June, depending on departure.” 

“That long?” 

“Slow ride on the next supply shuttle to the Earth Sphere.” 

If Noin was willing to take the long road home, she wanted off-planet in a hurry.  “So, what you’re telling me is that I’ll have six months to plan your ‘welcome home’ party,” Sally said, seeking to lighten the mood. 

Her effort was rewarded with a genuine, albeit tired, smile from the other woman.  “That I am.  And I have high standards now: no one parties like the Martians.” 

After a shared moment of comfortable silence, Noin asked, “How’s Une doing?” sounding as if her spirits had been suitably lifted. 

“Retiring.” 

“You’re kidding.” 

Sally grinned.  “Hard to believe, huh?” 

“What’s she going to do with herself?” Noin asked, sounding mildly horrified. 

“Hopefully take some well-deserved R&R,” Sally answered.  “She told me she’s planning to spend some time with her girl.” 

“I can’t imagine that will keep her sufficiently busy.” 

“I dunno, Lu – teenagers can be handfuls.  We were seventeen once.” 

Noin laughed but countered, “Yeah, but when we were seventeen, times were tough and often violent.  Teenagers nowadays are handfuls of a very different variety.  Ren went from commanding troops to helming the Preventers.  The hours ‘M’ spends in school alone will give her more downtime than she’s ever known.” 

“You saying I need to keep her distracted?” 

“I’m saying she needs a friend.” 

Sally considered this, her gaze turning inward.  When she spoke next, all teasing was gone.  “I’ve tried, you know, over the years.  Parties and drinks and food and festivals and forays into the mountains.  She’s always declined.  Politely of course, but I’m beginning to think she just doesn’t like me all that much.” 

Noin shook her head.  “Bullshit.  She wouldn’t have lobbied for your promotion if she didn’t like you and your work. 

“Ren is nothing if not professional,” Noin continued.  “She’s had the whole of system-wide security riding on her shoulders for nearly a decade, and she’d never do anything that would invite more criticism and ESUN meddling.  Fraternizing with subordinates could do that, given the present makeup of the Oversight Committee. 

“But now she’s not your boss,” Noin concluded, her hands splaying in invitation, “so try again…and see what she says.”


	17. Chapter 17

**L’Apothicaire  
** **Geneva, Switzerland  
** **205 December 19**  

Renilde Une sat in a dim corner of the bar nursing a scotch with one eye on her phone.  Two weeks into her mandatory, transitionary leave, she had stopped receiving messages from Headquarters and was left feeling unmoored in the vacuum her retirement had presented.  First a colonel, then a Preventers Director, and now what? 

She spun her glass with her fingertips, listening to the bottom grind against the polished wood of the bar top while she watched the other patrons and wondered what they did, who they were connected to here in the city, whether any posed a threat. 

At first, Une had berated herself for such ideations but within the first five days of her departure, she had observed someone else’s operatives [1] shadowing her.  She’d subsequently spent a few days playing a game of ‘how mundane can I make my life out to be,’ boring herself to death in the process.  But it seemed to do the trick: her unwelcome clandestine companions had made themselves scarce in short order...which to her meant whoever had ordered the tail had called them back and established alternative methods to monitor her activity.  Such was the new normal, she supposed. 

Now she sat feeling entirely unsure about what to do with herself.  She sighed and checked her phone again. 

There was a burst of cold air that blew in from the other side of the bar.  Looking up, Une watched Sally Po take long strides into the space, her gray eyes spotting her from across the room, and make short work of the distance between them.  Sliding out of her jacket, the woman asked, “Not late, am I?” not even bothering to glance at her watch as she slid into the adjacent stool. 

Une shook her head.  “I came early.” 

Sally nodded, the corners of her mouth turning up in the faintest of smiles.  Glancing at Une’s glass, she asked her, “What are you drinking?”  When Une told her, the faint smile grew.  “I always pegged you as a wine girl.  Clearly I was mistaken.” 

“I used to be,” Une admitted.  “I suspect the job had something to do with the change.” 

The other woman chuckled and flagged down the barkeep, ordering a bourbon for herself.  Once she’d acquired her own drink, she raised the glass in a toast, giving Une a wide smile.  “Cheers to your retirement.” 

Une offered her own small smile in thanks and met Sally’s drink with her own, the glasses clinking softly between them. 

“How is the retirement going?” Sally asked before taking a sip of the amber liquor in her tumbler. 

Une sobered at the question.  “I’m not officially ‘retired’ until the first,” she reminded her companion.  “But it’s…fine.”  The answer felt hollow on her lips and she shook her head, amending, “I’m not sleeping well—I’m still stuck in the routine, trapped in this feeling that any bad news is going to come back to me.  I keep expecting the flood of emails and calls.  So the fact that my phone has gone silent is disturbing rather than reassuring.” 

Sally considered this for a moment before saying, “It’ll get better, you know.” 

“I know,” Une sighed, taking a swallow of her own drink and feeling it burn in her chest.  Doubts swirled in the back of her head, but she knew she’d never release them; giving them a voice would make them real. 

She was grateful when Sally changed the subject.  “When are you heading to London?” 

“Tomorrow.” 

“Flying?” 

Une nodded with a shrug.  “Faster than the train.” 

“That’s good,” Sally said, shifting to lean heavily against the bar to her right.  “You’ll get both Christmas and New Year’s then.  You find a place to stay?” 

“I’m renting a two-bedroom downtown.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t just buy,” Sally told her, throwing back the rest of her drink. 

“I could have,” Une acknowledged, finishing her scotch as well, “but it felt too…final.  I don’t know if I’d want to stay in London if she wasn’t there.” 

Sally nodded at this, seeming to agree, and waved down the barkeep to order a new round for the two of them.  She then asked her, “So what are you looking to do in your free time?  Travel?  Start your memoirs?  Take up knitting?” 

A dry laugh escaped Une’s lips at the suggestions.  She felt the tension ease out of her, but whether it was due to the alcohol or the company she wasn’t sure.  She hoped it was the latter.  To Sally, she said, “Travel is a yes, I think.  Marie will be staying on-campus through graduation and I…I want to be there for her without becoming overbearing.  We’ve lived apart for so long that some distance won’t be unnatural for us.” 

“So where to?” 

Une considered this while she took a drink, feeling Sally’s eyes on her.  The undivided attention was rather…nice.  “I haven’t been home to Bavaria in I don’t know how long.  I’d like to see it again – what’s changed, what hasn’t.  But beyond that, we’ll see.” 

“Well, if you’re ever interested in having a travel buddy, let me know,” Sally told her, throwing in a wink for good measure. 

“You wouldn’t mind?  I know you’ll be busy—” 

“Of course not.  I’ll need as much of an excuse to get out of Geneva as you’ll need to get out of London.” 

“So not much of an excuse other than ‘I’m bored and want to get into trouble while off the clock.’” 

“Precisely.” 

At this, Une did laugh.  “Sounds like a fantastic idea.  Let’s plan on it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Point of order: LAM!verse nixed the “one global country” concept once Romefeller was out of the picture.  National boundaries were re-instated as part of peace negotiations in AC 195-196.  Une here knows that the tail isn’t Preventers-sanctioned.


End file.
